Breathe Out
by screaming-poetically
Summary: Companion piece to “Breathe In.” Flack learns a secret from Danny and has an argument with Lindsay. FL.


**Title:** Breathe Out  
**Summary:** Companion piece to "Breathe In." Flack learns a secret from Danny and has an argument with Lindsay. FL.  
**Disclaimer:** The names of all characters contained herein are the property of Anthony Zuiker, Jerry Bruckheimer Television, CBS and Alliance Atlantis. No infringements of these copyrights are intended, and are used here without permission.  
**A/N: **I'm writing this fic on request. I hope you all like it. Last part in the series containing ADP and Breathe In.  
**Rating:** T

**Breathe Out**

"_There's blood in my mouth 'cause I've been biting my tongue all week  
I keep on talkin' trash but I never say anything…"  
-Rilo Kiley_

He rubbed the back of his neck uneasily and watched Lindsay shove things inside her locker. Danny had endured the frosty silence between them for almost seven hours. She had found out, through Pino presumably, that he had told Flack about her condition the night of their rendezvous. Shit. He hated this. Danny had actually grown to like Lindsay in the months she had been in the city. And, you know, he hadn't even meant to tell Flack that she wasn't drunk. It just… came out.

"_Get the DNA results back yet, Messer?"_

_Danny dropped a folder on the table and when the waitress came over he ordered a slice. He's a cheese kind of guy, doesn't like to complicate things. Flack's not eating, just drinking some water. It reminded Danny, the way he's sitting and holding the cup, of the night they went drinking with Lindsay. He said so and Flack tensed._

"_Whaddya mean?"_

"_Just sayin' you look like ya did then, all shrugged over an' leanin' into your drink. Lindsay wasn't doin' the same thing, of course, she didn't have anythin' to drink, just some cherry kind of thing. Shirley Temple or some shit and…"_

_He stopped because Flack looked angry. Hurt. Dangerous, even. And then Danny realized that he had made a mistake in mentioning that night. A very big mistake._

"I didn't mean to, Lindsay," he said.

She ignored him and leaned her head against the cool metal of her locker.

"I'm sorry. I didn't even realize what I had said until it was too late, an' I know I shouldn'ta done it but…"

He heard her sigh heavily and she's reciting the names of the elements, Hydrogen Helium Lithium Beryllium. Lindsay's calming herself but he spoke again anyway.

"Flack…He's wicked mad, Lindsay, an' I know it's my fault. He thinks you used him."

"It's none of your damn business, Danny! Why do you always have to ruin things? You're so difficult, I just don't know what to do with you."

He was taken aback. Danny had never had a girl speak to him so. He really didn't understand. Maybe it was true, what Lindsay had just said. She was well within her rights to yell at him, considering he had probably just ruined everything between her and Flack. Maybe he had been difficult and sophomoric to her. Calling her Montana was unnecessary, he had to admit. He was twenty-six, he should know better.

"Lindsay. Listen…"

"No! I won't listen. Everything was fine with Don and I before you had to open your mouth and tell him I wasn't drunk. He didn't know and that was fine. Oh, damnit, it was fine before you talked because then it was only that one night and we never had to acknowledge it. Don didn't, and I didn't. But now nothing's fine he'll probably never speak to me again."

Danny frowned. As much as he hated fighting with people he cared about, he hated this self-deprecation more. This assuming that everything was fine. Because it wasn't, obviously. Not for Lindsay, who was trying to convince herself. Not for Don, who couldn't sleep or sometimes even work properly.

"Listen here, I'm gonna say my piece 'cause I can't stand this. Flack hasn't been okay since that night. He remembers, but he don't act like it 'cause he thinks you don't remember either. An' you, well, you're too stuck on convincin' yourself everything is okay, everything is fine, to think about what he means to you. An' that's just fuckin' ridiculous, Lindsay."

She slammed her locker door shut and turned to face him.

"It's really a hunt for you guys, isn't it? Girls get so attached and you just move on, and while you're doing that there's another girl sitting on her couch eating Ben & Jerry's and getting fat…"

"Are we still talking about me here cause I'm not sure anymore."

"Fuck. Neither am I. I'm sorry, Danny."

Danny was about to speak again when the locker room door slammed open and there he was. He was obviously angry and they both froze. Danny looked between them, between Flack and Lindsay, and was thankful that everything in the room was nailed down because this was going to be a big one. He made his exit unnoticed by the two one-time lovers. If the lab techs called Stella and Mac's fights tropical storms, this was going to be a hurricane.

Flack walked further into the locker room as he loosened his tie. He wondered if she still had his. Probably. He had plenty of others, but after finding out what he did—that she wasn't drunk—and after all this time, too, he wanted it back. Maybe it was just spite, and Flack knew if he was honest with himself he would recognize it as such. He had never hated anyone but the moment Danny let it slip that Lindsay hadn't had anything to drink, he hated her. He loved her too, of course. But now he loved her in a really unfortunate way that made him hate her, love her.

She watched him as he made his way closer, and she bit her lip. It was a nervous habit, she supposed, and she regarded Don with wary eyes and when he hit a locker she flinched.

"Why the fuck didn't you tell me, Monroe?"

"I thought it was better if you didn't know," she said quietly.

He stared at her, disbelieving and very, very angry. Flack didn't understand how Lindsay could possibly consider not telling him better. Better for her, better for him. It wasn't possible.

"Better? You thought it was _better_ if I didn't know? That's bullshit. Did you ever think…"

Lindsay's eyes narrowed and she stepped closer to Don. She clenched her fists at her sides.

"If you didn't know then you wouldn't get attached," she interjected hotly, "I didn't want to hurt you."

"Well, it's a bit too fucking late for that. Thing is, you used me, Lindsay—whether you meant to or not—and it hurts. 'Cause I do care about you, and I remember everything about that night. I can't get it the fuck out of my head, okay? It's driving me crazy."

She looked away, looked back.

"Then forget!"

"I can't! You used me and I loved it! If you wanted to do it again I'd let you, 'cause havin' you use me in that way is the closest thing to havin' you as my own!"

"I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry, Don. I'm sorry and…"

They were too close to notice that the space between them—a few feet only a moment ago—was now merely inches. Suddenly they were almost touching, and then they _were_ touching and he grabbed her round her waist and she let him pull her those few centimeters closer.

Flack felt his will disintegrate as his breath met hers. He kissed her, kissed her truly, softly, deeply. Her hands wound their way around his neck and she leaned into him, bending like a willow tree. Their tongues danced against one another as Flack's hands found their way to her waist, explored the curves there. And he wondered why he had never noticed this before, that girls—and subsequently Lindsay—were all curves and symmetry.

When the need to breathe arose, they parted and she whispered his name.

"Don, oh Don."

She shouldn't be able to say things like that, to say his name in such a way that he knew that he'd do anything for her.

"What are you doing to me, Lindsay? I can't wrap my head around you."

Lindsay rested her forehead against his and trailed her fingers through his hair. It's nice, she observes. She doesn't know why she never noticed before.

"I'm just a country girl, Don. I don't really know what's going on anymore. I just…"

At that moment the door to the locker room opened and Hawkes entered. He looked slightly startled (to say the least) when he saw Flack and Lindsay in their embrace. They parted nervously and Hawkes spoke awkwardly.

"Ah, Danny said you guys were done fighting, and I'm offshift, so, ah, I just thought that I'd come…get my stuff. So, you know, I'll just…do that."

"Sheldon," started Lindsay.

"No, no," he said, "you two, just, you know, continue where you left off. Don't mind me."

Flack grinned, crossed his arms over his chest, and leaned back against the lockers. He almost felt bad for Hawkes, walking in as he did on Lindsay and himself. Almost. But, you know, it _was_ kind of funny and besides, everything was okay now. Wasn't it? He had kissed Lindsay, and she had kissed back. They both weren't drunk, and it actually meant something this time around. At least, it meant something more. So…

"See you two tomorrow," Hawkes said, leaving.

A smile tugged at the corners of Lindsay's lips as she turned back to Flack. She almost felt bad for Hawkes. Almost.

"So, what happens now?" he asked.

She considered him for a moment, thinking about everything that could mean. She remembered what Danny had said to her earlier.

"_An' you, well, you're too stuck on convincin' yourself everything is okay, everything is fine, to think about what he means to you."_

Danny, she guessed, had probably spent the better part of his life hiding his feelings from everyone else. That was how he had gotten so good at reading other people, at learning them before they learned themselves.

"How about we talk about it over coffee, okay, Don? I know this great place…"

_finis._


End file.
